I almost rushed through one of the best months of my life

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Hey Spark Family,

I’m writing this on the last day of April from yet another hotel room.

My suitcase is open on the floor and somehow looks both half-packed and fully exploded. There is a room service tray outside my door that I meant to put out earlier, but forgot, and I have reached that very specific point in a travel stretch where I am no longer completely sure which bag has my charger, my dry shampoo, or the one pair of pants I was counting on wearing tomorrow.

I’ve been on the road three of the last four weeks, and I am tired in the way you get tired when you have been giving a lot of yourself, sleeping in different beds, moving from airport to client room to hotel room to keynote prep to family logistics, all while trying to keep a business, a home, a calendar, and a nervous system somewhat intact.

And yet tonight, sitting here in the quiet, I have the clearest feeling.

This has been one of the best months of my life.

That surprises me a little, because I am not sure I would have said that in the middle of it. If you had asked me somewhere between packing again, checking into another hotel, trying to find something clean to wear, reviewing slides, answering emails, missing my normal routine, and looking at the next thing on the calendar, I probably would have said, “This is a lot.”

And it was.

I might have said I was overwhelmed. I might have said I was stretched. I might have said I was ready to be home.

All true.

Just not the whole truth.

The whole truth is that April was full of things I care about deeply. I stood in rooms and on stages with leaders doing meaningful work. I partnered with clients I genuinely admire. I felt real momentum moving through Spark Brilliance, the kind I have hoped and worked so hard for. I spent unforgettable days at The Masters with Rob and both boys beside me, with those little flashes where you realize, almost mid-laugh, that your kids are growing up and these moments with everyone together are becoming so much more precious.

It was a month full of life.

And more than once, I caught myself experiencing it mostly as pressure.

I don’t think I’m alone in that.

Sometimes the very things we once hoped for arrive looking a lot like logistics. The growth we wanted shows up as more responsibility. The opportunity we dreamt about shows up as a full calendar. The family we adore shows up as laundry, schedules, meals, emotions, forms, rides, and the endless “where are your shoes?” of it all. The meaningful work shows up as preparation, travel, risk, visibility, and long days.

And if we are not careful, we can spend an entire season calling something heavy that is also deeply beautiful.

I kept thinking about the concept of the Gap and the Gain this month, probably because I needed it so badly.

The Gap is where my mind goes when it measures everything against what is still undone. What I haven’t finished. What needs a response. What I should have done better. What is still messy. What comes next. Where I am behind.

The Gain is where I return when I remember to measure backward for a moment. To notice how far I’ve come. To see what is working. To recognize the things I once wanted that are now sitting quietly in my life, disguised as a busy Tuesday.

And April gave me so many chances to practice that in real time.

I would be standing in another airport, feeling the complaint start to rise, and then remember where I was headed. I would feel tired before walking into a room and then remember what a privilege it is to do work that matters with people who care. I would look at a packed schedule and think, yes, this is full, and also, look at this life.

And then there were the moments that stopped me completely.

Watching my boys laugh together at Augusta was one of them. I remember looking at them and knowing, in my whole body, that I did not want to wait ten years to realize that moment was sacred. I did not want to only appreciate it later, when it had softened into memory and I could finally see what was right in front of me.

I wanted to be there while it was happening.

That is the part I keep coming back to tonight in this hotel room.

I don’t want to only appreciate my life in hindsight. I don’t want to be so focused on getting through something that I miss the fact that I am also living something I once dreamed about. And I definitely don’t want to call a blessing “too much” just because it asks a lot of me.

That doesn’t mean every full season is automatically good or sustainable. Sometimes we really do need rest. Sometimes we need boundaries. Sometimes we need help. Sometimes the pace is not wise, and our body is kind enough to tell us the truth before our calendar does.

But sometimes life is not wrong. Sometimes it is just rich.

It is demanding and beautiful. Full and meaningful. Tiring and extraordinary. It is the work that matters, the people you love, the kids growing up, the client who needs you, the flight you almost missed, and the hotel room where you finally sit still long enough to realize you almost rushed through one of the best months of your life.

Nothing outside of me changed when I noticed this.

The inbox was still full. The calendar was still ambitious. The suitcase was still ridiculous. The room service tray was still outside the door.

But the lens changed.

And the lens changed the experience.

That feels like leadership to me too. Not in the big, polished, standing-on-a-stage way. In the quiet way. The way we lead our own attention. The way we interrupt the story stress is trying to tell before we accidentally turn our whole life into a to-do list.

So maybe, before this week gets away from you, ask yourself where you might be calling something “too much” that is also, in some honest way, a gift.

What part of your life did you once hope for that you are now rushing through?

April reminded me that a full life can feel tiring and extraordinary at the same time. Sometimes growth is learning not to confuse the two.

And sometimes gratitude is not something we find after life slows down. Sometimes it is how we keep our heart open while life is moving fast.

Grateful,
​Jackie

P.S. If life feels especially full right now, pause before wishing it away too quickly. Some of the months that ask the most from us end up giving the most too.

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